“This friend of your dat’s... You can write him and tell him that you’d like to give your life here some time. Ask him if it’s a standing offer.”
She looked up into his eyes, and Elijah felt his pulse jump again. If he was going to get used to dating Faith Yoder, he’d have to learn to deal with her closeness without having a heart attack.
“It’s a gut idea.”
“In the meantime I’ll work on wooing you over to life in Shipshewana.”
She reached up, touched his face, then stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly. “I’d like that even better.”
Epilogue
Five years later
Faith put a clean shirt on baby Joseph, checked that she had everything she could possibly need in the diaper bag, then hurried out to the buggy.
Hannah was riding next to Elijah, holding Boots’s reins. “Look, Mamm. I’m driving.”
“Indeed you are. Now scoot in the back next to your bruder.”
Nathan had recently turned three. He glanced up at the sound of his name, even as he stuffed something in his pocket.
“What do you have there, Nathan?”
“Something.”
“Is it something that jumps?”
“Sometimes.”
Faith nudged Elijah as she scooted next to him on the buggy seat. She liked sitting next to her husband. She liked riding with him with the children tucked around them. It reminded her of all that Gotte had provided in so short a time.
“Your son has a critter in his pocket again.”
“Ya?”
“You probably helped him catch it.”
“That might or might not be true, but if we stop to deal with it, we’ll be late to Leslie’s.”
Faith shook her head in mock exasperation, then glanced back at Hannah and Nathan. Their heads were touching as they both huddled over whatever he was holding.
Finally she yielded. “As long as it’s not a snake.”
“Definitely not a snake. After that last one, the harmless garden snake that almost caused you to faint, we had a heart-to-heart about gals and snakes.”
“Gals don’t like snakes!” Nathan proclaimed.
“I do. I like snakes.” Hannah scooted to the front of her seat, putting one small hand on each parent. “Aenti Leslie does, too. She told me that all creatures are gut.”
“True, but some need to be viewed from a distance.” Faith was reminded of the large spider her son had brought into the kitchen the week before.
“Like bears,” Hannah proclaimed.
“And lions!” Nathan shouted. Just when you thought Nathan wasn’t listening, he jumped in with an exuberant comment.
“Looking forward to the afternoon?” Elijah asked.
“I am. Leslie has a full group staying in her tiny houses this week.”
“They like hearing from you about Amish businesses. They’re always surprised to learn that many of us do things in addition to farming.”
“Like installing solar panels?” she said, smiling.
He smiled back. “Ya. Like that.”
They’d been speaking to Leslie’s guests for about a year. Each week on Thursday afternoon, they made their way over to her place for a luncheon and discussion. The questions always made Faith laugh.
Were women allowed to work? All mothers work, all the time.
Did their clothes have buttons? Yes!
What was it like to raise a large family without the conveniences of modern living? She didn’t have a large family yet, but when she did she would let them know.
She studied her husband, and a small laugh escaped her lips.
“What? Hay in my hair again?”
He combed his fingers through his hair, then asked Hannah to pass him his hat.
“Just thinking of how happy I am.”
“I’m happy, Mamm,” Hannah chimed in, while she sat back to examine whatever Nathan was sheltering.
“I’m happy, too, and so is my frog.” Nathan’s voice was soft, low, full of wonder.
There was complete silence in the buggy as Faith closed her eyes and prayed for patience. Elijah squeezed her hand, then leaned over and kissed her.
“Ew,” Hannah and Nathan said together.
“They’re always watching,” she murmured.
“Fine by me. It’s gut for them to see that their dat loves their mamm.”
“But kissing is mushy,” Hannah protested.
“I would kiss a frog,” Nathan said. “If it would let me.”
Elijah wiggled his eyebrows at her and ran his fingers through his beard. It had begun to gray in the past year, which Faith found quite attractive. She liked to tease him about it. He was only thirty-seven, but he said his dat had grayed early, too. Daddi Joe, as the children called him, was a dear man whom Faith had learned to love. He was as gentle with the children as a mamm was with a newborn. It had been Faith’s idea to name their second son after him. In many ways, Daddi Joe had restored her faith in people again, in families.
As they pulled into Leslie’s place, Faith looked out over the tiny houses—an even dozen—and remembered when she’d first come to meet with Leslie. She didn’t know then that Gotte was providing a dear friend, someone who could stand in the place of her mother. No one would ever replace her mamm, and Faith didn’t think Gotte worked that way. He didn’t take away one person and replace him or her with another. People weren’t replaceable. But she did believe that Gotte sought to fill the holes in their lives with new friends and relationships and loved ones.
She glanced at Elijah.
Remembered Jonas.
Nein. Gotte’s ways weren’t her ways, but He was gut. That she was convinced of. As her little family climbed out of the buggy and walked toward the waiting group of Englischers, that was the single thought on Faith’s mind—Gotte’s abiding goodness.
* * *
If you loved this story,
pick up the other books in the
Indiana Amish Brides series,
A Widow’s Hope
Amish Christmas Memories
A Perfect Amish Match
The Amish Christmas Matchmaker
An Unlikely Amish Match
The Amish Christmas Secret
from bestselling author
Vannetta Chapman
Available now from Love Inspired!
Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com
Dear Reader,
Have you ever been afraid of making a decision?
Faith Yoder has made some choices that weren’t very well thought-out. The result is a child whom she loves desperately, and a life that is terribly hard. Faith is paralyzed by the idea that she will decide something that will make their life even worse.
Elijah King is all confidence. He’s financially successful and well respected in the community. He’s also lonely. How did he miss out on the most important things in life—family and love? With typical self-assurance, he forges ahead at full speed—certain that God will provide the perfect wife to walk by his side and create the perfect family.
Then Elijah meets Faith. She’s lost and very strong-willed. He sympathizes with the troubles that she’s endured, and he believes Hannah to be the most adorable child in Shipshewana, Indiana. But why does Faith have to be a business planner?
Faith and Elijah have taken drastically different paths in life, and yet God has brought them together at this moment to befriend one another.
I hope you enjoyed reading Stranded in the Snow. I welcome comments and letters at [email protected].
May we continue to “always give thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:20).
Blessings,
Vannetta
Caring for the Amish Baby
Carrie
Lighte
For my family, who has seen me through many seasons, and my readers, who have made writing Amish romance novels so rewarding.
To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.
—Ecclesiastes 3:1–8
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Chapter One
Leah Zehr clipped her seat belt buckle into place and waved to her niece, nephew and sister-in-law Catherine as the van pulled down the driveway. Catherine was frowning but Leah could hardly contain her glee. One month. She would be gone for one marvelous month.
One month and four days, to be exact. From today, January 28, until she returned on March 2, Leah wouldn’t have to take care of any children. She wouldn’t have to cook for anyone other than herself, nor would she have to clean up after anyone else. And she definitely wouldn’t be tromping across the lawn in the snow to hang any laundry on the clothesline. That’s because she was headed from her hometown of Bensonville in Geauga County, Ohio, to the Amish community in Pinecraft, Florida, and the last time it snowed in that part of the country was in the 1970s.
Leah’s elderly second cousin, Betty, who lived in Lancaster County, had paid in advance to rent a bungalow for the month of February. Betty had intended to share the house with her three sisters-in-law, but one of them had slipped on the ice and broken her hip, so Betty gifted Leah with the vacation since the two-bedroom bungalow could accommodate up to four people. Betty had a full itinerary planned for her sisters-in-law and herself and she said Leah was welcome to join them, but they understood if she’d rather socialize with “the younger folk.”
Other than keeping her half of the bedroom tidy and washing her own dishes, Leah was free to do whatever she wanted. And what she wanted to do was lounge in the sunshine, reading one of the many books she started but never seemed to have time to finish. She also intended to learn to play shuffleboard. And to go bicycling every day.
Most of all, she couldn’t wait to visit Siesta Key, the beach she’d heard so much about from those members of her district who were fortunate enough to go there, or who had relatives who went. Leah had never even been to Lake Erie, which was some fifty miles from where she lived, so going to the Gulf of Mexico was more than a dream come true; it was a dream she hadn’t even imagined for herself.
“It must be nice to be able to leave town for a month without a care in the world,” Catherine had said when Leah told her about her plans. “But when you have two kinner to raise, with another one on the way, you have to put your familye first.”
Leah had been rankled by Catherine’s insinuation that she was selfish. I already know full well that raising children means putting their needs first, she thought.
She knew because she had practically raised her younger brother and two younger sisters after her parents were killed in a carbon monoxide poisoning accident when she was fifteen. Although Leah’s grandparents had assumed guardianship of all four children, they were both older and in ill health, so Leah wound up taking care of them, as well as her siblings. By the time she was nineteen, Leah’s grandparents had both died and she was left entirely on her own to finish bringing up her brother and sisters, aged twelve, nine and seven, respectively.
Now that her youngest sister, the last sibling to marry, had gone to live with her in-laws until her husband could build a house in the spring, Leah was alone with Catherine, Leah’s brother, Paul, and their two little children. Ever since Catherine had moved into the Zehr family home when she wed Paul five years ago, Leah felt her role as the woman of the house had been usurped by her sister-in-law, who wanted everything done her way, from where to plant the flowers to how to hang the laundry to what to serve when they hosted church—and everything in between. Now that both of Leah’s sisters were gone, Leah didn’t have anyone to back her up when she asserted herself. Since Paul sided with his wife, Catherine always got her way, but Leah wasn’t about to let her sister-in-law pressure her into forgoing this once-in-a-lifetime trip.
“I’ve never been on a vacation,” Leah had pointed out. “You and Paul already got to go to Pinecraft.”
Although romantic honeymoons weren’t commonplace among the Amish, Pinecraft’s popularity had increased over the past two decades, and more and more young couples were going there following their weddings. Older Amish and Mennonite retirees also visited the little Sarasota community in the winter in order to escape the harsh northern climates.
“Jah, but that’s different. We were on our honeymoon.”
“So I’m not allowed to enjoy traveling just because I’m an old maid, is that it?”
Leah was asking the question tongue in cheek; at thirty-four, she didn’t consider herself old. And she was single by choice. She’d had her share of men vying to court her over the years, but they were all widowers with children of their own and Leah couldn’t see how adding more children to their household would help matters. She’d already been struggling to take care of her siblings, and later, to help Catherine with her babies.
Fortunately, their family home was already paid for, so between the quilts and baked goods Leah and her sisters made and sold, as well as the income her brother earned when he began working in a nearby manufacturing plant, the Zehrs hadn’t suffered financially. They weren’t wealthy by any stretch, but the Lord had always provided for their material needs, otherwise Leah might have felt more pressured to get married.
Her church community and friends had anticipated that once Leah’s siblings were teenagers or had moved out of the house, Leah would accept a suitor, but the fact was, she wanted a suitor even less now than she did when she was raising her brother and sisters. Why court if she had no intention of getting married? And why get married when she felt as if she’d already been married?
Or at least, she’d felt that she’d already had the major life experiences most Amish people have when they get married; she’d had her own home to run, children to care for and finances to manage. Admittedly, she hadn’t experienced what it was like to fall in love and to have a man fall in love with her. But she’d made it this long in her life without a husband, so why did she need one now? Husbands and marriage usually led to babies, and there was no way Leah wanted to go through raising children again.
In fact, she had actually daydreamed about staying in Florida permanently, wondering if it was possible to sell her share of the family house to her brother and find somewhere to live and work in Pinecraft year-round.
I can just imagine what Catherine would have to say about that, she thought. Her brother and sisters wouldn’t be very pleased at the idea of her moving so far away, either. And she’d miss them terribly, too. But what would her life be like if she stayed in her family home in Ohio? I’ll probably end up playing nanny to my great-great-nieces and -nephews and catering to Catherine’s demands until I’m ninety!
It wasn’t that Leah didn’t want to be involved in her nieces’ and nephews’ lives. Nor was it that she intended to shirk her family obligations—on the contrary, she derived a great deal of satisfaction from her role as a sister and an aunt, as well as from being a member of her church district. But lately she’d felt so restless. As if the time wa
s ripe for a change. She’d asked God to give her a spirit of contentment, but more and more often, she felt as if the Lord was preparing her to do something different.
So she’d been praying about an opportunity in Florida and if God opened the right doors, she’d walk through them. But for now, she was going to appreciate every moment of her month away.
Her first stop was to spend three days with Esther, her closest friend from childhood. Esther had moved from Bensonville to a little town in Holmes County, Ohio, called Fawn Crossing when she married Gabriel Rocke, a wheat and oats farmer, some ten years ago.
After years of trying unsuccessfully to conceive and then suffering two miscarriages, Esther had finally given birth to a girl, Rebekah, who was now six months old. Although Leah never longed for children of her own, she was delighted the Lord had blessed Esther with the desire of her heart and she couldn’t wait to spend time with her, Gabriel and the baby.
After that, I’m on my way to the Sunshine State, she thought happily as the van sped along the wintry Ohio roads. This might well turn out to be the best month of my life.
* * *
Jonathan Rocke tossed a shovelful of snow to the side of the driveway. He knew how important the snow was to his wheat crop. It provided insulation for the seeds now, and when the spring came, it would melt and provide moisture for the soil, as well. But today, he considered the snow quite literally to be a pain in the neck—his neck. His back and shoulders, too.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he felt guilty. He had no right to grumble, even to himself. It wasn’t as if he were sick, like his brother, who had been lying in bed since yesterday afternoon. Or at least, Jonathan didn’t have a fever like Gabriel did, nor was he coughing or in any pain other than the temporary burn in his upper-body muscles as he shoveled. He did, however, feel as if he were moving in slow motion. As if he were one of his own draft horses, pulling a plow behind him all day.
An Amish Winter (Love Inspired) Page 9
